Brothers
by Cossacks250
Summary: This is just a quickie on Hyung Soo  NK  and Yong Soo  SK . Enjoy!


Death. It was the one thing that would happen to all forms of life from the tiny bacteria to the mighty blue whale, no matter what their intelligence or how strong their will to survive. Whenever one dies, his or her family, whether they were poor or rich, weak or strong, smart or un-smart, would weep. Sometimes if they were well known, their death would strike at a much large variety of mourners and they too would weep.

One perfect example of this was with North Korea. Once it had been part of a large kingdom on the peninsula Korea, now it was one of two nations, both of Korean heritage, but divided by sixty years of political rivalry, war, economic means and the build-up military, all four of these particularly in the north as it was a Communist dictatorship, the polar opposite of a democratic south. Entire families had been divided by this split at the end of the Second World War when Japan had been defeated and forced to give up It's Korean colony, which it had ruled brutally for thirty five years, and even more so at the end of the Korean War in 1953 when the Cold War between America and the USSR was heating up.

One family in particular were two brothers, one called Hyung Soo and the other Yong Soo. After they had been freed at the end of the Second World War by the Allies, they had rejoiced greatly. However, with two Allied nations being their saviours, both quickly fell for different ones. Hyung Soo quickly came to admire Stalin's communist armies, which had taken control of the north of the Korean peninsula, whilst his brother Yong Soo had favoured the democracy of the Americans, who had taken the south of the peninsula. Had this been at a more favourable time of politics, these two brothers would have been together, but because the Cold War had begun almost as simultaneously as the defeat of Nazi Germany in Europe, this had prevented that from happening. Both eventually went their separate ways and hoped that one day, their brother would come over to their side.

Eventually, that day came, only war came with it. The Korean War exploded all of a sudden in June 1950 and by the end of the year, it had laid waste to much of the peninsula, claiming thousands of lives in the communist north and the democratic south, both military and civilian, and had intensified when China entered the war on the side of the North Koreans. Eventually, the war resulted as border clashes across the 38th parallel until a cease-fire was reached in the summer of 1953, with barely any ground gained from either side. Since then, it had grown into the most militarised zone in the world. With electric fences, enormous minefields and around two million soldiers, crossing from one side to the other either way was certain suicide.

So why do you think I started this with death? Well, I will tell you.

Hyung Soo had been a friend of the dictator of North Korea, Kim Jong Il. He had gotten to know the leader through his father, Kim Il Sung, who had been the founder of North Korea. When Kim Il Sung had died in 1994 of a heart attack, Kim Jong Il took over as the leader of the country and ruled it for seventeen years. Hyung Soo had been there next to him the whole time, as he had been with Kim Il Sung.

However, very recently on December 17th, 2011, Hyung Soo had been in Pyongyang paying his respects to the 'Eternal Leader' which he personally had given to Kim Il Sung at his funeral, when he was told that Kim Jong Il had suffered a heart attack whilst on a train outside Pyongyang, and had died.

Now, eleven days later, here he was in the Kumsusan Memorial Palace in the capitol of North Korea. It had been built when Kim Il Sung was alive and had been his office and residence. Hyung Soo had been in here many times before, including on the day when he, along with several generals of the North Korean army, had accompanied Kim Jong Il to pay his respects to his father. Now, he was here to do just that. He had done just that with Kim Jong Il's son, Kim Jong un, days earlier, but now he was here on his own. He had personal access to the building and he had come here to, again, pay respect to the now lifeless dictator.

In the main room of the palace, which was large and decorated with fancy furniture with a red carpet, red walls and decorated with potted plants native to North Korea, portraits of Kim Il Sung and/or Kim Jong Il, and a flag of the symbol of the Workers Party of North Korea, which had a red background with a yellow hammer, scythe-like object on the sides, pointing diagonally into the air, and a kind of spear in the middle pointing straight upwards. In the middle of the room was a large circle of red rope about thirty feet across and surrounding it was a sea of flowers of all kinds. In the middle was a large glass coffin and inside it was the body of Kim Jong Il, which was mostly draped in a red flag, the flag and a symbol of his communist dictatorship he had enforced onto the country for seventeen years.

Hyung Soo, a tall man with long black hair tied into braid, brown eyes and dressed in a green military uniform, sat on his knees on the ground, staring ahead silently at the coffin of his former leader and friend. He was only 69 when he died, thirteen years younger than his father, but they had both died of the same thing. Even though he was not showing it, in his eyes it was easy to tell that he felt nothing but sorrow. Then again, who would not after losing a friend, even if they had been a dictator like him?

As he sat there staring ahead, the door to the room opened and another man, another Korean, walked in. He looked a lot like Hyung, but he was a little younger with short brown hair and brown eyes. He was dressed in a white military uniform. Usually, he would wear a hanbok, which was mostly white but with a navy blue torso. However, he had decided to wear his military uniform as he thought it would be a bit more…well respectable is probably the best way to put it. He looked at Hyung as he sat on the ground, not looking behind him to see who had entered. He sighed and walked towards him. His name was Yong Soo. He knew Hyung very well.

He was his brother.

When he approached Hyung, coming to within about ten feet of him, Hyung suddenly looked round and a slight look of displeasure came across his face.

"Oh, It's you," he said.

Yong gave a friendly wave and a small smile, but Hyung did not return it. Instead, he just turned his head around and looked back over towards the coffin.

"I never expected you to come here," he said.

"Well…I thought…I would come and see how you were, brother," Yong replied in a friendly tone.

Hyung stifled a smirk, still not turning to look at his brother. "You thought you'd come and see me," he said. "That's probably the best excuse you've come up with and I still manage to go around it," A pause hung between the two for a moment before Hyung broke the silence. "You shouldn't even be here anyway, Yong," he said.

"Well, the last time I checked on the news, your government was allowing mourners in from the south," Yong told him, his tone not changing.

"And why they let _you _of all people in," another smirk. "God help me,"

Yong sighed. He had been expecting this. Ever since the Korean War all those decades ago, his brother hated him. Admittedly, for a while, he felt the same way. They both blamed one another for them not seeing each other. But…he [Yong] did eventually learn not to lose hope. He had and still did believe that one day, him and his brother could be together again, like they had done a long time ago under Japan's rule. Even though they were brutally treated by their leaders, beaten often and forced to work for hours on end and watch many friends die, they were there for each other. Hyung had especially been there for him because Yong was younger and, therefore, much more frightened and terrified. Now, in an ironic way, Yong was there for his frightened and terrified older brother when he needed him.

He walked over to Hyung and rested a hand on his shoulder, but before he could even speak, Hyung, with a heavy forceful breath, shook it off him, Yong catching the edge of a glare of hatred pointed at him from his brother. He sighed again and crouched down next to him.

"Hyung," he said softly.

"Leave me alone!" Hyung growled, looking away from him.

"Look, please talk to me,"

"No! Now go away!" he waited for a moment, expecting Yong to give up and walk away, but when he looked he still saw him there, his brown eyes waiting patiently for him to try and talk to him. Hyung sighed through gritted teeth. "What do you want?" he asked, looking at his brother. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I came here to make sure you were okay," Yong replied. "And, as much as you may think this is weird, to pay my respects," he added, nodding his head towards the coffin.

Hyung laughed a little, shaking his head. "Pay your respects?" he repeated. "You didn't even like him! One of the diplomats from the south told me that you thought he was a terrible ruler! That he shouldn't be in charge! So why the Hell have you come here to 'pay your respects' when you don't like him?"

Yong just replied calmly: "Because he's still Human,"

Hyung stifled another laugh, looking at his brother with disgust as if he was something he did not want, which, in a way, he did not, at least not the way he was.

"Because he's still Human, he says," he muttered, looking back at the coffin. "What a crock of shit!"

"Hyung," Yong said, but Hyung ignored him but that did not stop Yong. "This may sound strange to ask…" he continued, getting onto his knees. "But…d'you remember that day in 1994 when-"

"Of course I remember, you idiot!" Hyung hissed, silencing his brother. "I was there. And I felt the same on that day just like I am now,"

He looked back up at the coffin, though it began to change and suddenly, there was another body there, though this time, it looked older and was dressed in a navy blue suit, different to the light brown military uniform he had seen the body of Kim Jong Il dressed in inside the coffin. Then, a sound began to reach his ears, coming at him from all directions like thunder. It sounded like…it…it was…crying, both men and women. Hyung looked down to find himself standing up. He looked next to him, expecting to see Yong, but instead the man he had seen just moment ago. It was Kim Jong Il, but he was…alive, and younger because his hair was black instead of grey and he was dressed in a navy blue suit as well and he was wearing glasses as well. Behind them in a large crowd was a mixture of government officials, army officials and newsmen and women, some holding cameras, others holding microphones, but they all had in common was that their faces were wet with tears as they cried hysterically.

Kim Jong Il bowed, trying desperately to hold back tears, towards his father before he stood up straight again, staring at his father, his face filled with sadness. All around them, others were feeling the same, if not, worse that their Eternal Leader, the founder of their country and someone who had led them to greatness was gone. He had left them, the country and his family weeping and crying.

After a moment or two, Hyung watched as Kim Jong Il walked away to the left side of the room, several army officers pushing back the news cameramen and women as they filmed him. He watched as Kim Jong Il took out a tissue and wiped his eye dry of the tears, lifting up his glasses to do so.

_"Hyung," _he heard someone say and he looked around, but found no one. _"Hyung," _there it was again. _"Hyung…Hyung,"_

"Hyung," Hyung gave a surprised gasp as he snapped out of his reminiscence and looked next to him to see Yong sitting next to him, both of them alone in the room. "I thought I had lost you for a moment there," Yong said, trying to cheer up Hyung a little, but it did not work.

Hyung sighed and rubbed his eyes dry. "I don't understand why you're here, Yong," he said. "Why are you here? My democratic younger brother coming to see his older communist brother," he shook his head again. "I don't understand it,"

"Well, we're both of the same country, Hyung," Yong replied. "We're both Korean. And we've both been there for each other when we needed it,"

"Well, I'm surprised America, or Alfred or whatever his name is, hasn't stopped you or anything," Hyung said. "Why do even let him be there intruding on your business?" he asked his brother.

Hyung thought for a moment and sighed. "Well…to be honest with you, Hyung, I don't know," he replied. "And to be extra honest, I don't want him there as much as you don't want him there, but, unfortunately, I can't do anything about it,"

Hyung gave a small chuckle. "Well, that explains it then," he said. "We don't want him there, but I suppose there are people within your country's government that do want his support,"

Yong shrugged. "Probably,"

Silence fell between the two for a moment as they looked at the coffin of Kim Jong Il. It was hard to imagine that he had died so suddenly. Then again, his death had struck the whole nation just as hard as it had struck Hyung. He had died on December 17th but it was not until the 19th when the country and the world were told that Kim Jong Il had died. It had surprised everyone that he had suffered this heart attack and died so suddenly like his father had done before him.

Finally, Hyung broke the ice. "You know what I cannot understand?" he asked Yong, who looked at him. "It's that you and me are here yet we're part of two different ways of life, completely polar opposite from one another, and yet we're here sitting next to each other as if nothing has ever happened," Hyung paused and looked up at his brother. "Why is that, Yong?" he asked.

"Well," Yong began. "To be honest with you, Hyung, ever since the war ended sixty years ago, you and me hated other to death. We never wanted to see each other again. But then a few decades ago, not long before Kim Il Sung died, I knew that we had barely aged since our split and I knew that you would always be there for me, even though you didn't want to," he paused for a moment, letting what he had said to Hyung sink in. "I've hoped and still do hope that we can be together again…like we used to before the war. That we would be able to…enjoy each other's company ad be part of one single Korean nation again, but just be there for each other again,"

Hyung looked down at the floor. "I suppose you find that hard to believe though," he muttered, though Yong could hear him. "What with me being a communist and you a democrat. It…it just doesn't feel like we are brothers, even like…like we _shouldn't _be brothers,"

"Hyung," Yong said, risking again to rest his hand on his brother's shoulder, though this time, Hyung did not push it off. Instead he slowly raised his head to look at him. "I don't care what the rest of the world thinks or what our instincts think. The fact is that no matter what, no matter what happens to us, you'll always be my brother,"

Then, Yong saw Hyung do something he had not seen him do for a long time. He watched as a smile came upon his face, though it was a small one, but to Yong, that was more than perfect. He smiled back and patted Hyung's shoulder.

"Thank you," Hyung muttered. "Brother," he added.

Yong smiled again and stood up. "I might see you again sometime," he said. "Good luck in the funeral," he added.

Hyung looked back at him and nodded and Yong walked back over to the entrance to the room. Hyung looked back at the coffin, thinking of what Yong had said to him. _No matter what, you'll always be my brother_. In a way, he was right. In fact, he felt the same way, but had just ignored it for decades since the end of the Korean War, but now… Now, he was listening, and he was glad he was.

"And Hyung," Yong's voice said, making Hyung looked over his shoulder at him. "It may be a bit late to wish you a Merry Christmas…so, Happy New Year,"

Hyung gave him another small smile and nodded. "You too, brother," he replied and Yong smiled and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Hyung looked back at the coffin once more and stood up. He gave a final bow to his friend and former leader of North Korea, but has he stood back up straight, he smiled at himself. Yong was right. Even though they followed two different ways of life, complete polar opposites of each other, they were of the same country. They were both Korean.

What was more, they were still brothers and no matter what, they would always be there for each other.

Hyung turned and walked towards the door and opened it, but he stopped in the doorway, his hand on the door to stop it closing, and looked back at the coffin and at where he and his brother had been sitting. He smiled at himself again.

"Thank you, Yong," he muttered and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.


End file.
